


Tell Jean (Jean the Meme)

by maisy_daisy



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Gen, Jeremy pines for jean, M/M, Memes, autocorrect is a bitch but sometimes good things happen, group chat shenanigans, jean is made into a meme, mutual menace society, pre-relationship fic but jer wishes it were otherwise, quarantine fic, the trojan exy team is just really wholesome and supportive of their ex-raven teammate, this prompt is all thanks to the mutual menace society's attempt at social interaction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24646528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maisy_daisy/pseuds/maisy_daisy
Summary: It all started with a hell yeah.In which Jeremy tries to find ways to bond with Jean and the team during quarantine. Despite the challenges, a bowl of popcorn and an accidental use of autocorrect is all it takes to break through some of the walls that make up Jean Moreau.
Relationships: Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau
Comments: 11
Kudos: 86





	Tell Jean (Jean the Meme)

**Author's Note:**

> This pic is 100% based on my friend's and I's aftg group chat when autocorrect swooped in and started a chain reaction of Jean related jokes. Jean, Jeremy, Laila, and Alvarez are products of Nora Sakavic's imagination. Mercury (Merc), Vivi, Major, Cassandra (Cassie), and Luci are actual and cool people involved in the original gc and are honorary USC Trojan Exy players. Jas (Jassie) is Mercury's oc and many thanks again to Merc for allowing me to bring Jas to life. See notes at the end for our tumblr's.

It all started with a hell yeah.

With quarantine extending far longer than any of the Trojans expected—or anyone else expected for that matter—the group was becoming more and more restless. Jeremy wasn’t an individual accustomed to staying inside all day. The beach was his second home, the stars his endless roof. To be told he was safer indoors was like telling a person they’d never know pain if they never woke up. Sure, he was safer indoors. But that didn’t matter. Nothing safe was worth his time.

“Not everything’s about you,” Laila pointed out over Skype. It was early June, and with the abrupt cancellation of their season months back, Jeremy sought as much interaction with his teammates as possible. It wasn’t the game he missed (though, that was part of it): it was his friends, his partners, his family.

If there was one silver lining in the great tragedy that was social deprivation, Jeremy had much more time to spend with Jean in their shared apartment. The latter stubbornly refused to see their arrangement in such a positive way aloud, but that didn’t deter Jeremy. Ever since Jean had found his way (home, Jeremy thought) to USC, Jeremy was slowly but surely breaking through the brick and mortar that separated Jean Moreau from human interaction.

Jean would never admit, but Jeremy saw how the rigid set of Jean’s shoulders loosened ever so slightly when Jean woke to a fresh cup of coffee and bowl of muesli each morning.

Jean would never admit, but Jeremy noticed how Jean would slowly open up to more and more conversation after a round of Netflix each night. At first, Jean would make a show of not caring much for whatever they had watched. But like clockwork, he’d end up lacing more passion and genuine opinion into what he was saying. Jeremy lived for these moments. No amount of salty waves or constellations would ever compare.

Jean would never admit, but Jeremy was aware of how the quarantine situation helped Jean rest his mind better than Jean would have been able to do without it. The lack of bone-wearing practices and endless social outings proved as a great mental repose for the trauma Jean was still working through. That, and coupled with the weekly Skype calls with his therapist, had Jean on a sure road to a more efficient recovery. Healing by no means would be finished within a few months, nor within a few years. This was possibly a battle Jean would have to wage for the rest of his life. But nevertheless, it was a start. And if that meant staying indoors for the rest of Jeremy’s life, well.

Jeremy had to agree with Laila then. Not everything was about him. And Jeremy would do close to anything and everything to see Jean recovered well and sure.

And despite the inability—or in spite of, to be honest— to physically connect with his team (his family), they found every and any possibility to blow up each other’s phones and video calls with supportive messages and desperate attempts to stay connected.

Every time Jeremy considered how lucky he was to have his teammates, he remembered what Jean lacked for so long: a real, cohesive family. And Jeremy vowed that this absence would never strike Jean again.

Which meant adding Jean to the Trojan Exy iMessage Group Chat. And the Skype group chat. And the Snapchat Group Chat. And the Line Group Chat. And the TikTok group chat, which, even Jeremy had to admit, was a bit much (that didn’t stop Knox from using the app to the best of his ability, however).

Jean didn’t respond to any of the messages at first. When he finally decided to, it was to say things like: ‘OK’ and ‘Yes’ and ‘Don’t tag me in that’. But Jeremy wasn’t about to let who-knew-how-many-months go to waste without breaking through at least a few more bricks. So he vowed to find any and all ways to lure Jean into the group chat.

He wasn’t about to let Jean get away with skipping out on the highs and lows of collegiate virtual interaction, after all.

Unfortunately, Jeremy’s first plan didn’t work. He had set up a scheduling system on iMessage to make sure everyone blocked time on their calendars to talk for at least an hour on the upcoming Saturday. No excuses, no cop outs.

Except for the fact Jeremy set the time for four p.m.: the same exact time Jean moved his new counseling session to. By the time everyone had set the date in stone, it was too late for Jeremy to plan something else for that week.

(Jeremy positively tried not think that Jean moved the time on purpose to get out of the mandatory virtual hang out. Oh, he tried.)

Grievously, Jeremy’s second plan also fell through. A Skype call for at least an hour on Friday afternoon. Jean should have had no way to slip out of this one; they lived in the same apartment for goodness’ sake.

Except Jean _did_ manage to avoid the virtual bonding session, as he got in a car accident on the way back from the grocery store.

(Jeremy stubbornly tried not to think that Jean got in the accident on purpose. It was only a fender bender, quite simple insurance and physicality wise. But it was enough to depose Jean for a good three hours, effectively cutting him out of the call.

A coincidence, Jeremy told himself. An incredible, frustrating coincidence.)

But three time’s a charm, and Jeremy finally succeeded in persuading (politely cornering) Jean into hopping on the Line chat feed one Wednesday evening.

“I do not understand what they are saying,” Jean told Jeremy. The former glared at the phone in his hand, the one Jeremy had bought for him, as if the device offended him. “What does ‘yee ah’ mean?”

Jeremy smiled patiently and scooted closer to Jean on the couch. Jean didn’t flinch at the near proximity like he used to and just that thought made Jeremy smile wider. “Yeehaw,” Jeremy corrected kindly. “It’s just a saying. Alvarez uses it any chance she gets.”

Jeremy pointed at a picture frame of his mom on the wall. It’s the one of her on a beautiful Arabian, Stetson near flying off as the horse rears up in the shot. “Yeehaw is what cowboys say in the Wild West.” He thought that was right. Maybe.

“Was your mother a…,” Jean looked from the picture to Jeremy, ”…cowboy?”

Jeremy restrained a chuckle. Jean probably wouldn’t appreciate it, but Jeremy only meant it affectionately. “She’d probably prefer the term cowgirl, but pretty much. Yeah.”

Jean nodded seriously like he just learned a great secret of the universe. “Does she say Yeehaw?”

Now Jeremy couldn’t hold back his laugh. He placed a gentle hand over Jean’s knee to let him know he wasn’t laughing _at_ him. “I’ve never heard her, if so. I’m more than happy to call her right now and ask if you want.”

“No, that is not. Um.” Jean cleared his throat and distractedly read another series of texts coming through, the same of which were popping up on Jeremy’s own screen. He only had eyes for the man next to him, though. “That is not necessary, Jeremy.”

Jer-em-ee. Jean always spoke his name so professionally. Never Jer. Nor Remy. Not even Knox. Jer. Em. Ee.

He found he didn’t mind so much, as long as Jean never stopped saying his name.

The sound of a slight laugh had Jeremy’s heart stuttering. Jean never really truly laughed and Jeremy couldn’t wait for the day he heard all of Jean’s inhibitions let go to be replaced with a real, genuine burst of mirth. But what he heard at the moment was enough in itself to draw every ounce of Jeremy’s attention—as if it weren’t all already on the man, anyway.

“What is it?” Jeremy asked. He didn’t dare tear his eyes away from the upward quirk of Jean’s lips, that tease of a smile Jeremy couldn’t get enough of. Forget drugs and alcohol or any other mindless pursuit: Jeremy was full blown addicted to Jean’s smile. It was like a river in the driest desert; the first gulp of oxygen after nearly drowning; the sight of land when swimming for shore. Once Jeremy saw Jean smile once, he knew he could never live without seeking it out again.

“A picture,” Jean answered. “A— _comment dites-vous_ —mem?”

“Oh, meme,” Jeremy said. He finally glanced down at his own screen to see the flood of images pouring in. Cassandra and Mercury seemed to be paired in a meme war against Alvaraz and Laila. Jeremy could barely keep up with the visual onslaught; it was like watching an almost incoherent sitcom between his friends. Luci acted as referee while Vivi kept score of the points—a system Jeremy did not understand but he was greatly entertained regardless.

“I feel like we need popcorn,” Jean muttered after a moment of watching the exchange on screen. He’d yet to comment anything via text but just the fact he agreed to be present with Jeremy (bonus: and only complained twice so far) was more than enough. Jeremy was so lost in his appreciation for the moment that he almost missed what Jean had said.

“Was that—“ Jeremy sat up and gasped dramatically. “Did Jean Moreau just make a _joke_?”

Jean glared at him but it was devoid of any real heat. “I’m completely serious.” He set his phone down and stood up from the couch, shirt rising up as he stretched. Jeremy most definitely did not stare at the exposed midriff. He didn’t. “Do you want some?”

Jeremy flashed a grateful grin and Jean averted his eyes quickly at the sight. It was like looking into the sun (and sometimes, when Jeremy wasn’t looking, Jean found himself watching that smile and wishing he could burn along with it). “I’d love a bowl. _Merci, mon chou_.”

Jean’s lips pursed as they always did when Jeremy tried to speak French. Jean most definitely did not find it endearing. He wasn’t sure if Jeremy even knew what _mon chou_ meant. Even more so, he couldn’t decide what would be worse: Jeremy knowing full well or not.

So he walked off into the kitchen before he could get lost unpacking _that_ predicament. Jeremy sighed affectionately and leaned back into the couch to read through the next series of messages. As he scrolled, he found himself chuckling softly.

 **Vivi:** Round three of the meme war goes to..! *drum roll*

 **Laila:** *drum roll*

 **Jer** : *bangs cymbal*

 **Vivi** : Laila and Alvarez!

 **Merc** : this is creativity erasure

 **Alvarez** : hell yeah

 **Laila** : yell heah

Jeremy snorted in his seat. He inserted a thumbs up on Laila’s message while listening to the sound of Jean opening a box of popcorn to place a bag in the microwave. “Lai and Al won the round!” Jeremy called to him. Jean didn’t respond, probably not deeming the information worth a response.

 **Major** : did i just read that right? ‘yell heah’?

 **Laila** : tell jean

Jeremy squinted at the screen. He looked between his phone and Jean in the kitchen, who was staring through the microwave glass as if his gaze alone would pop the popcorn faster. Completely unaware of the conversation unfolding.

 **Jer** : ???? i already told him

 **Laila** : shit lol

 **Laila** : i meant to say ‘yell heah’ again but autocorrect swooped in

 **Cassie** : oh I was SO confused

 **Alvarez** : _TELL JEAN TELL JEAN_

 **Luci** : i was like ‘what am i supposed to tell jean’??

 **Luci** : wait remy what did YOU tell jean??

Jeremy shook his head fondly at the friends who couldn’t even see him.

 **Jer** : never mind lol

 **Laila** ; TELL JEAN!!

 **Merc** : _tell jean_ ,, the new form of hell yeah! _Everyone’s saying it!_ You wanna be hip, _don’t you?_

Jeremy slapped a hand over his mouth to silence his laugh.

 **Laila** : oh whoopity doo tell jean yeah i do!

Jeremy couldn’t hold back his laugh this time and fell over on his side, couch cushion almost smothering the sound of his wheezing.

* **Jas is typing***

 **Alvarez** : holy shit jas is on

 **Jas** : Hey

 **Jas** : What’s going on

 **Jas** : Tell Jean what? I’ll tell him

“Jas is on!” Jeremy’s laughter was interrupted by the appearance of one of the Trojan’s backliners. Jas was one of Jeremy’s favorite teammates, after Jean, Laila, Jean, Alvaraz, Jean again, and everyone else he loved. On second thought, Jeremy really couldn’t pick favorites (maybe except for Jean). Jas was one of the younger players, a 19 year old freshman who (grudgingly for Jeremy) was one of the first to connect with Jean thanks to their French-American background. They couldn’t speak much better French than Jeremy, but Jean had found a stable connection with the fellow quiet but kind backliner.

“Jas?” Jean repeated from the kitchen. He’d retrieved the popcorn from the microwave and was busy pouring separate portions for the both of them. “I thought they had an appointment, no?”

“Yeah, they must’ve gotten back from P.T.” Jas sprained an ankle a few weeks before in a biking accident.

 **Jer** : jassy!!

 **Jas** : Jerry!!

 **Laila** : Laila!!

 **Major** : @ jas ‘tell jean’ is the new ‘hell yea’

 **Jas** : Oh??

 **Major** : just accept it

 **Jas** : Sounds good

 **Vivi** : Don’t you mean

 **Vivi** : _Tell jean_

 **Alvarez** : where is our other french fry anyway

Jeremy grinned as he typed his response.

 **Jer** : making some popcorn whilst we enjoy y’alls chaos

 **Cassie** : yum

 **Merc** : @ cassandra its _tell jean_ get with the times smh

 **Laila** : @ cassandra “yum”<< the popcorn or the chaos??

 **Cassie** : @ mercury OH RIGHT

 **Cassie** : aye aye captain merc

 **Cassie** : @ laila chaos obviously smh

 **Jer** : @ cassandra hey i’m captain :(

 **Alvarez** : for now :P

 **Jer** : WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

“Do you want toppings?” Jean asked. “We are out of popcorn salt. I think we have cheese buds.”

“Tell Jean—” Jeremy coughed to cover the laughter still in his throat. “I mean, sounds good. Jean sounds— _Cheese_ sounds good!” He turned back at the screen to avoid Jean’s confused glance. Laila had sent an image and he clicked on the visual.

It’s the meme format of Drake’s Hotline Bling. In the top square was a picture of Drake dismissing the words ‘hell yeah/yell heah’ and in the bottom square, a picture of Drake welcoming the words ‘tell jean’. Jeremy laughed into the couch cushion again before saving the meme to his phone.

 **Alvarez** : whoop jean’s a meme!

 **Laila** : don’t you mean

 **Laila** : _meme the jeen_

 **Major** : MEME THE JEEN

**Alvarez** : @ laila babe you're a genius

**Luci** : MEME THE JEEN, TELL JEAN HE’S A MEME

At this point, Jeremy lost it. He dropped his phone on the side of the couch as Jean walked over with their two bowls. When he saw Jeremy’s shaking form on the couch, he immediately dropped what he was holding onto the rug and lunged forward.

“ _Jeremy_ ,” he breathed in alarm, holding his hands in front of Jeremy’s face. Almost touching but not close enough, like he was uncertain if touch was allowed. At the concerned look on Jean’s face, Jeremy immediately began to sober and sat up.

“Jean,” Jeremy stated slowly, chuckles dying. He slid a hand under his eye to wipe away the tears that had formed in his amusement.

“Are you—?” Jean looked Jeremy up and down from where he leaned over the arm of the couch. “You are sad?”

“Sad?” Jeremy blinked, bewildered. “No. No, not at all. I was laughing.”

Jean’s brows knit together in obvious confusion. He began to reach his hand out again as if to touch Jeremy’s cheek but stopped prematurely. It took more self control than Jeremy liked to admit to not groan aloud at the potential loss of Jean’s touch. “You were crying,” Jean said, a mix between a statement and a question.

“Oh. Oh, no. Not like that.” Jeremy’s heart swelled at the look of concern on Jean’s face. It was such a pure, genuine reaction that Jeremy still found to be rare in Jean. And the fact the reaction was aimed at him—albeit born from a misunderstanding—was almost overwhelming.

Jeremy gingerly held out his palm in offer, hoping against hope that Jean would accept it. After a tense few seconds that more resembled hours, Jean finally laid his own hand over Jeremy’s and allowed him to pull Jean down on to the couch next to him.

“I was crying,” Jeremy admitted with a self-conscious chuckle. “Just a little. It was good tears, though.”  
  
“Good tears?” Jean repeated like it was an abstract concept. For Jean and his past, Jeremy didn’t doubt for one second the foreignness of the idea for him.

“Yeah.” He was distinctly aware Jean and he were still holding hands and if he thought he were hoping before, he was majorly hoping now that Jean wouldn’t let go. Jeremy gestured with his free hand to the phone he’d dropped. “The group chat, um. There’s a joke you missed. It made me laugh. Really hard.”

Speaking of hard, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to concentrate on anything other than the feel of Jean’s rough palm against his own. It was the first time Jeremy had the opportunity to do such a thing, despite imagining the moment a million times when he couldn’t fall asleep at night. Or during car rides. Or when he cooked dinner. Or when he sat next to Jean while watching Netflix, hands so close but connection so far.

Jeremy may have imagined holding hands with Jean more than he could comfortably admit.  
  
Jean, oblivious to Jeremy’s momentous revelation, leaned over and picked up his own phone from where he’d discarded it on the ottoman. He opened the app and quickly scanned through the messages— _he’s still holding my hand_ —eyes squinting in confused interest every few seconds.

“Tell Jean,” he muttered and tilted his head, mulling over the words. “Tell Jean, Tell Jean, Tell Jean—they say this a lot.”  
  
“Did you read what it means?” Jeremy asked, distracted by— _his hand is so rough. Are the callouses from exy or…Well, what else would they be from, Jer? God, I love his hand._

“Hell yeah,” Jean said. The corner of his lips tugged up again and Jeremy huffed a laugh.

“Is that another joke? Two in one week?” Jeremy teased. “What’re you going for, a new record?”’

Jean scoffed lightly but didn’t respond as he continued to read. However, it was obvious he was waging a losing battle with himself. A small, near imperceptible smile insisted on pulling at his lips. He tried to quell the impulse, but by the time Jean reached the series of memes Laila had made, his face broke out in the most innocent expression Jeremy had ever witnessed.

 _Oh_. Jeremy almost gaped at the sight right then and there. The knowledge that Jean wouldn’t appreciate Jeremy doing so was the only motivator stopping him.

_This is what love looks like._

It was so easy for Jeremy to love Jean. It hadn’t been a surprise nor was it any weight on Jeremy’s conscience when he had first realized what he felt towards the ex-Raven. The love he possessed for Jean was a selfless one, devoid of any demands nor desired anything other thanthe need to help and comfort the hurting man.

He loved Jean immensely. And that smile—that first genuine, heart wrenching smile that Jeremy felt he’d waited a millennia to witness—was the culmination of all the love and all the tender care Jeremy wanted to spend the rest of his life offering to Jean.

“This is…interesting,” Jean said after another minute of scrolling. The group chat continued to roll with new messages: Alvarez and Luci wondering where Jeremy had gone whilst Major, Merc, and Cassie theorized the various ways Jean may have burned the apartment down in his popcorn making escapades. Vivi and Jas seemed to be bonding over their shared physical therapy experiences as the injured pair of the team (at least they’d gotten themselves injured while we weren’t in the middle of a season, Jeremy had thought positively).

And Laila was off enthusiastically making more Jean-themed memes.

Jean tilted the phone screen to show another photo Laila had sent in. It was the image of the boy gesturing to a butterfly and asking if the insect were a pigeon. But instead of the stock description, the words ‘hell yeah—>yell heah—>tell jean’ covered the butterfly and underneath the boy were the words, “is this an adequate way of expressing our love and devotion for our favorite french fry?”

It was one of the images Jeremy hadn’t seen after he’d collapsed in a fit of laughter. He snickered at the image, quickly leaning over to tap Jean’s screen and save the image to Jean’s phone. Jean only huffed an amused breath at Jeremy but didn’t comment further.

Still holding hands, still holding hands.

 _All this time stuck together and this is the first we’re doing this?_ Jeremy thought to himself. _Should be a crime._

“So,” Jeremy began. Testing his luck, he lightly rubbed circles into the dip of Jean’s hand where his thumb and forefinger connected. Jean watched their hands silently but made no move to pull away. The smile that had shined like Zeus’ thunderbolt was gone now, but a smaller, gentler quirk of his lips remained.Jeremy continued, “Do you think you’ll join the video chat this weekend? Ya know—” He wiggled his shoulders in mock anticipation—“to say hi to your admirers and all that?”

Jean’s cheeks cramped as he resisted an amused smirk. “I think…that may be possible. Just this once, of course,” he added hastily in case Jeremy got any ideas. “I do not want to set any false expectations or anything.”  
  
Jeremy’s hand involuntarily tightened in Jean’s own as the Californian laughed. “A third joke! Moreau, you’ve truly outdone yourself.”

Jean’s eyes darted to the carpet. “Consider it payment.”

Now it was Jeremy’s turn to blink in confusion. “For..?”

“That.” Jean gestured to the popcorn littering the rug from when he’d dropped the plastic bowls. “I made a mess."  
  
“No mess,” Jeremy assured. He squeezed Jean’s hand, purposefully this time. There was so much he wanted to say to him in that moment. _Tell Jean. Tell Jean._ Oh, the irony.

Jeremy said, “That’s easy to clean up. Besides, you had much more pressing matters at the time, _oui_? Say…" Jeremy clutched at his chest theatrically. "Like making sure I wasn’t dying of a broken heart!”

Another miracle in the form of a soft smile flittered across Jean’s face. He rolled his eyes, the closest to a warm expression Jeremy had seen on the man. Tell Jean.

_I will make sure you never run out of reasons to smile._

“So it seemed.” Jean gently pulled his hand away from Jeremy, who wanted to cry at the loss. He bravely refrained from doing so. “I’ll clean the floor.”

“I’ll help,” Jeremy offered. He set his and Jean’s phone to the side, quickly reading through the last of the messages that had come in.

 **Merc** : do you think jean would burn my apartment down if i asked nicely

 **Alvarez** : not gonna stop you,, but why on earth would you want that

 **Merc** : my landlords a pig

 **Alvaraz** : touché

Jeremy quickly typed a response.

 **Jer** : unfortunately @ merc i don’t think jean is a pyromaniac

 _But his smile could burn down the world if he wanted_. He doesn’t share the last part.

 **Laila** : did y’all like my memes

 **Laila** : my jean themed memes

 **Laila:** I memed the jeen please validate me

 **Alvarez** : lai babe you’re a goddess

 **Alvarez** : a poet

 **Laila** : you know it

 **Jer** : A+ memes. thank you for your service

 **Laila** : whoop tell jean!

Jeremy closed out of the app and stood up to go help his flatmate. The latter had already grabbed a broom and dustpan and was busy sweeping away the popped kernels. Jeremy stopped him with a light brush of his hand against Jean’s elbow.

“Hey, I have a question.” Jeremy waited for Jean to set aside the broom and turn to face him.

“By any chance, are you a pyromaniac?”

"Pyromaniac?"

"Yeah, like." Jeremy gestured around. "Do you like burning things down?"

Jean raised his eyes to the ceiling as if asking God why he was born before leveling an amused tilt of his head to Jeremy. “Not currently, no.”

Jeremy grinned and nodded his head, looping his hand into Jean’s own as if it were the most natural thing the world to do. Jean allowed the gesture with a slight flush of his own cheeks.

Jeremy quite liked his apartment after all, and if he and Jean were going to be subjected to an unknowable more amounts of months inside, Jeremy needed to know he’d at least have _some_ roof over his head.

“That’s a relief,” Jeremy said with his trademark grin spreading across his face.

Jean squeezed Jeremy’s hand ever so slightly, as if careful to not break the bones underneath. “Yeah?”

Jeremy let his smile engulf him. He leaned in conspiratorially, shivering at the warm feel of Jean’s breath on his cheek _._ He swallowed his laugh before saying,

_“Tell Jean.”_

**Author's Note:**

> This fic only exists because of the amazing peeps in the mutual menace society, all credits to them. Thanks babes, I love y'all <3333 Tumblr's below
> 
> Me: @ ravens-play-exy-too  
> Merc: @ funkyspacechicken / @ Leloqier on ao3  
> Major: @ major-general-blue  
> Luci: @ luci-cunt  
> Vivi: @ myanchorandyourcompass  
> Cassie: @ allisonjamaica  
> Others not mentioned in the fic but gc peeps:  
> Seaweed: @ seaaweed-brain  
> Birl: @ deus-ex-knoxina  
> May: @ mayleaemerald


End file.
